Gnawing at the Roots
by LGCoffeeAddict
Summary: It was a long, arduous journey to winning over the Aes Sedai, but one slow, steady step at a time was much more effective than several careless steps all at once. Egwene's mission to heal the Tower continues after Chapter 24 of Knife of Dreams.
1. Chapter 1

Gnawing at the roots

A **Wheel of Time** fic by Gigi.

Disclaimer: I only own one copy of each Robert Jordan's (R.I.P.) published Wheel of Time books. No more.

Chapter 1: Fueling the Fire

**A/N: Okay, so this story picks up where Chapter 24 in the **_**Knife of Dreams **_**left off. Egwene has just won the respect of the novices and is continuing her battle for the White Tower.**

Egwene couldn't help smiling to herself as she walked back her room, thinking of her triumph with the novices. It had been a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

Images filled her mind of all the novices—all one hundred of them, just a fraction of the number Egwene had gathered—in the dining hall standing up for her as she entered. One novice darted to the kitchen to retrieve Egwene's food and returned with a tray with an extra roll beside the dish of stew and crumbly cheese. A cushion rested on the hard wooden bench for her, but Egwene moved it and sat down, welcoming the fire in her bottom, drinking in the pain.

She had won over the novices, one hundred girls with varying ranges of Talents. Alvistere and a few other novices were at the point in their training where they would be tested for Accepted soon, and if they passed into Acceptance, it would be yet another victory for Egwene. She would have Accepted on her side, who would help her win over the other Accepted.

It was a long, arduous journey to winning over the Aes Sedai, but one slow, steady step at a time was much more effective than several careless steps all at once. Elaida had made that mistake, and Egwene was determined to show the Tower just how monstrous a mistake it was.

"Mother?" Beonin was at Egwene's door. She looked a little apprehensive when Egwene's calm gaze rested on her face. Beonin stood next to Egwene's door, her hands folded in front of her skirt as if to keep them from grabbing fistfuls of cloth. "Mother, may I please speak with you?"

Egwene's eyebrow arched. She was Mother again, was she? "Of course, Daughter," she granted, motioning for the Aes Sedai to precede her into the novice room.

As soon as Egwene closed the door behind her, Beonin abandoned all Aes Sedai serenity—and the dignity that came with it—and hugged Egwene's knees, begging forgiveness. "Mother, please forgive me for my betrayal," she gushed. "I am wracked with guilt that I even thought of letting Elaida in on any of the discoveries you made, more so that I actually followed through on that thought. I beg that you administer me a penance. I must repay for my treason."

Egwene placed a gentle hand on the woman's head, signaling her silence. "Treason is such an unforgiving word," she finally said. "It says that a woman has committed a crime for which there can be no repentance." Egwene knelt down to look Beonin in the eye. "I do not see such a woman in this room." Relief flooded into Beonin's watery eyes. "Have you warned the sisters?" The Aes Sedai nodded. "Then I have two sets of instructions for you."

"Anything, Mother," Beonin nodded fervently.

"First, every day after supper, you are to go to Silviana and ask for a private penance," Egwene began, and when she saw the look of disappointment in the woman's eyes, added, "You did not think you would go unpunished for your...lapse in judgement?"

"No, Mother," Beonin answered meekly.

"Good. You are not to give any straight answer when Silviana asks for the reason for the penance. Simply say your mother asked that you take this for a disappointment you served her." Egwene winced at herself. She was getting as good at mincing words as any Aes Sedai. No word of what she told Beonin to say was untrue. "Secondly, you need to start planting some seeds within the Aes Sedai in the Tower."

Beonin's head snapped up. "What do you mean, Mother?"

"I need you to _subtly_ bring other Aes Sedai around to see what destruction Elaida has brought to the Tower. They need to see that the only way to repair such a broken Tower is to unseat the usurper to the Amyrlin Seat and seat a woman who knows what she is about," Egwene instructed. "Do not, on _any_ terms, mention my name. If they think I am behind this, they will put their backs up faster than if I went up to them and spat in their faces. And, quite frankly, I want it to be the Tower's decision of who will be the next suitable Amyrlin, and if that is not me, then so be it." Beonin looked fearful. No doubt she was thinking, _What if someone finds out what I'm doing?_ "Am I understood?"

"Yes, Mother," Beonin gulped.

"Good," Egwene said, standing up. "I would like nightly updates on your progress on both those instructions, Beonin." The other woman got to her feet slowly, surreptitiously wiping the tear tracks off her red face while mumbling out a "Yes, Mother." "You best be going. It is almost time for supper, and you'll need your strength for both your missions."

As Beonin left, Egwene sat down on her pallet. Beonin had become more of a victory than she had imagined. Suddenly it occurred to her that she should go tell Leane of the news. When she opened the door to the hallway, she was surprised to see that it was empty. Where were her Red bodyguards?

Realization hit Egwene square in the forehead. Her eyes widened, and she started running as hard as she could for the open cells.

As Egwene made her way down to the basement, she heard a noticeable lack of sound. A lack of talking. A lack of movement. A lack of breathing.

Egwene embraced the Source, taking all precautions – shielding her ability, shielding herself from view and inverting her weaves so nobody but her could see them – as she tiptoed into the cells.

Protected as she was, nothing could shield her from the gruesome sights that greeted her just beyond the cell door. Crimson droplets ran down the walls, leaving bars of blood akin to the bars of the open cells on the stone walls. The trails of blood stemmed from the body of an Aes Sedai, dismembered and nailed to where the wall met the ceiling. Egwene's stomach heaved. She was one of the Aes Sedai who were supposed to be guarding her. Katerine.

Katerine's eyes were wide with horror, and one of the disembodied hands grasped a note – no doubt a note meant for one of the prisoners for her to be down there in the first place – a note that someone did not wish to reach the intended recipient.

Channeling, Egwene brought the note from the dead woman's hand to her own. She warded it and kept it in her belt pouch. No need for anyone else to know there had been a motive for such a vicious murder.

She cast her eyes elsewhere. Felaana Bevaine, the Brown, lay on the floor, her eyes gazing unseeingly above a slit throat. Her leather-bound notebook was nowhere to be seen. Egwene braced herself for the worst as she stepped over Felaana's immobile body to look into Leane's cell. The lock seemed undisturbed, which in itself disturbed Egwene. Why would whichever Black sister who committed such a crime leave a witness behind?

Egwene channeled through the lock and pushed open the iron latticework gate. Apparently the Black sister hadn't needed to worry about leaving a witness behind, because Leane was draped over the washstand, the bubbled mirror shattered on the floor around her. Shards of the mirror were splattered with blood, and Leane hardly moved. No matter how "Talented" this Black sister was, there was no way she could have done that from outside the cell. This was self-inflicted.

Egwene had to keep the tightest rein on herself of her life to keep from screaming at the top of her lungs.

**A/N: Dun, dun, DUN!!! It's a nice way to start off a fic, don't you think? This is my first Wheel of Time fic, and I've never written a fic about a book before, so please be understanding in your reviews if my writing style is not akin to Robert Jordan's. Which brings me to my last point: REVIEW!!!**


	2. So Do I Obey

Gnawing at the roots

A **Wheel of Time** fic by Gigi.

Disclaimer: I only own one copy of each Robert Jordan's (R.I.P.) published Wheel of Time books. No more.

Chapter 2: So do I obey

**A/N: So I noticed after I posted the last chapter that I forgot to mention one thing: Egwene could channel more than just a trickle in this because, since the bodyguards were not there, she did not have her evening dose of forkroot.**

_Egwene channeled through the lock and pushed open the iron latticework gate. Apparently the Black sister hadn't needed to worry about leaving a witness behind, because Leane was draped over the washstand, the bubbled mirror shattered on the floor around her. Shards of the mirror were splattered with blood, and Leane hardly moved. No matter how "Talented" this Black sister was, there was no way she could have done that from outside the cell. This was self-inflicted._

_Egwene had to keep the tightest rein on herself of her life to keep from screaming at the top of her lungs._

Egwene crept closer to the washstand, intending to use whatever skill she had with Delving to see if Leane could be saved, but there was no need. As soon as she came within two feet of Leane, the woman coughed and started to straighten from the stand.

Egwene really did scream then, releasing the weave she had used to conceal herself. When she suddenly popped into view, Leane let out a small shriek of her own. Quicker than she ever had before, Egwene set a ward against eavesdropping around the two and inverted the weaves so nobody could tell it was there.

"Leane," Egwene started anxiously, "what happened here? And why were you like that?"

Leane was still cleaning herself up. She started calmly picking shards of glass from her sleeves – her face was calm, but her hands were shaking enough to make the task much more difficult than it should have been. "I heard screams coming from the main cellar," she answered in a clipped tone. "They weren't scared screams. They were horrifying in themselves. The sounds of those having to watch people they know being tortured, and then being tortured themselves." Despite Leane's best efforts at serenity, she shivered.

"You weren't tortured, were you?" Egwene asked, panicked. She could not afford to have a spooked Leane, too afraid or too weak to be any good. Egwene hated that she'd started thinking of people that way—simply to serve a purpose.

Leane shook her head. Her cropped hair had grown out in her time in captivity. It was now down past her shoulders and curled softly at the ends. "No. I figured the only way they wouldn't would be for them to think someone had already gotten to me." Leane held out her arm, which bore a gash that spanned half her forearm. Blood still dripped from it. "I needed it to be convincing," she said, wincing.

"And it wouldn't have been convincing without blood," Egwene finished for her. "I don't have too much Talent for Healing, but maybe I could ease the bleeding and some of the pain." She reached to take hold of Leane's head, but the Aes Sedai first walked around the room, making sure her blood dripped all around it.

"I need it to be convincing," she repeated. "Obviously, I cannot be found here. They can think that I was killed and taken to feed the Trollocs that are no doubt gathered on the other side of the Shining Walls."

Once Leane had bloodied up the room to her satisfaction, she allowed Egwene to Heal her as much as she could. It seemed that Egwene's affinity for Healing, although small, had improved a great deal since her last attempt. The wound was closed and healed, and only a small, pink scar remained. "That is all very well, but that means you must walk these halls as a novice. You will disguise yourself using our weaves and ask to be entered into the novice book tomorrow morning. Hopefully, you will not remain a novice long, with your experience."

Leane looked at her sideways. "I would not be so sure. I may have experience and years as an Aes Sedai on my side, but my ability to touch the Source was only partly Healed. I stand below most Aes Sedai in power now, save for a few and those who have not yet reached their full potential."

Egwene shielded the both of them from sight as they started to make their way out of the open cells. "Just as well. If you advance to Acceptance as quickly as Elayne and I did, they will never let you go, and there is hardly a chance that they won't detect how you mastered these weaves so long ago that you don't even think of forming them." Egwene's eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "Perhaps a noblewoman from Arad Doman who wishes to teach novices the art of...persuasion."

Leane's face whipped toward her companion. "The art of persuasion, Mother?"

Egwene looked at Leane from the corner of her eye. "Aes Sedai are masters at getting people to come around to their way of thinking, but it takes far too long for them to learn that certain skill. In order to keep the world safe and orderly, the White Tower must start training its students early in persuasion," she explained. "At least, that will be what you tell Elaida when you petition to see her tomorrow."

Leane stopped in the middle of the hallway so suddenly that Egwene had proceeded for a few steps before realizing she was alone. When Egwene turned around, she saw that Leane was smiling at her, a proud smile. "Being Amyrlin Seat suits you," she mused. Then she curtsied. "As Mother commands," she started, "so do I obey."

**8D**

Egwene lay on her pallet, staring at the drab, white ceiling. Night had fallen an hour ago, but there was no way she could have slept then. Her mind kept making up plans and discarding them, making up new plans and discarding those. Suddenly, she bolted to a seated position. In all the confusion she had completely forgotten she was supposed to meet the Hall in _Tel'aran'rhiod _that night.

She darted to the small window she had in her room to check the moon's position in the sky. The night was still young. There was a good chance the meeting hadn't even started yet. Lying back down on the hard mattress, Egwene went through the practices of putting herself to sleep, just as the Wise Ones had taught her, and before long she was floating, bodiless in the World of Dreams.

Envisioning the Little Tower in Salidar, Egwene opened her eyes to see Sheriam looking at her impatiently.

"Finally!" her Keeper exclaimed. "We were starting to get worried you weren't going to come, Mother."

"Well, I'm here now," Egwene affirmed calmly. After checking herself—she was in a royal blue dress with silver embroidery along the modestly scooped neck and sleeves—she made the Amyrlin's stole appear on her shoulders and nodded for Sheriam to begin the ceremony.

"She comes," Sheriam began. "Watcher of the Seals, the Flame of Tar Valon, the Amyrlin Seat. She comes." She pounded her Keeper's staff twice on the wooden floor before stepping aside to let Egwene proceed into the room.

Egwene glided across the small common room, eyes straight ahead, to the Amyrlin Seat that was situated in the center of the semicircle of chairs and platforms. Stepping onto the seven-colored platform, Egwene turned and sat down in her chair, commanding silence just by her very demeanor.

She spent a moment looking at individual Sitters and letting the silence settle in on each and every one of them before speaking. "Tonight, an event occurred in the open cells that forces us to change our approach, but before I disclose the happenings of the Tower, I ask that this be made a closed meeting of the Hall." Whispers rippled through the sisters as Lelaine hesitantly stood and wove a dome-like ward against eavesdropping over the common room. Egwene cleared her throat softly, but it was enough to capture everyone's attention once more. "Katerine Alruddin of the Red Ajah was torn apart and nailed to the wall of the open cells while she was attempting to deliver a note to a prisoner," Egwene stated calmly. "Katerine was one of the sisters who allied herself with the Shaido Aiel and aided in the attempt to capture Rand al'Thor." She did not have to say what Rand was. They all knew. "I have suspected Katerine was part of the Black Ajah--" a shiver ran through the room, but everyone had gotten used to saying those two words by now-- "for quite some time, and this confirmed my suspicion." Egwene produced the note from her imagination. She had read it so many times after she left Leane to prepare that she had memorized it. The note was simply for the Sitters. "Its addressee was smeared by the blood from her rather messy death, but the message reads clearly:

"_I am going to tell the Great Mistress that I no longer wish to serve her._

_I have long since discovered she will never grant us eternal life and power, but after what she made me do to my sister, I can not afford anymore to hope that someday she will._

_There is a good chance I will not be able to live past my resignation, and for that reason, I wanted you to know that Elza Penfell will be able to help you finish your assignment concerning your rebel cellmate."_

The Sitters for the Green Ajah let out a collective gasp at the mention of Elza, one of their own from Andor. And it soothed no pains that the "assignment concerning your rebel cellmate" obviously referred to Leane, who had joined the Green when she could channel once more.

"Faiselle," Egwene addressed the Green Sitter, "where is Elza Penfell now?"

Faiselle stood slowly on shaky feet. "In Andor, visiting her ailing cousin, Mother."

"I think it is safe to say that she is hardly visiting any cousin, wouldn't you think, Faiselle?"

"I think so, Mother," Faiselle agreed faintly. "I do, however, know she was in Andor just yesterday. I got a few pigeons from some of my eyes-and-ears in Andor saying they had seen her go into an inn where already quite a few sisters were staying."

"That is very useful information, Faiselle," Egwene approved. "You will need to send a few sisters—not your strongest, but not the weakest either—to Andor to handle her and make sure she comes back to the camp. I want this to be done with by our next meeting in three days."

"Yes, Mother," Faiselle bobbed before almost falling back into her seat.

Malind Nachenin of the Green Ajah then stood up. "Excuse me, Mother, but if Leane Sharif is in obvious danger, should we not start to plan an escape for her?"

"Leane has already been removed from the cells," Egwene assured. "However, she will not be returning to the camp. She will remain disguised in the Tower for a time and give assistance where needed."

Lelaine suddenly stood, abandoning all ceremony, and announced, "Someone has just tried to penetrate the warding, and it was inverted. I suggest we adjourn _now_." Without waiting for an answer, Lelaine popped out of sight, followed closely by Romanda, Kwamesa, Varilin and the other sitters.

Egwene stayed. She waited until every last Sitter had gone before calling out, "You may come out Leane." The woman obeyed, stepping out from behind a very large table. "Your timing was impeccable. They did not have time to bicker and discuss your return to the camp, which is all the better. The less argument, the better."

"How did the rest of the meeting go?" Leane asked, weaving her own ward against eavesdropping.

"Well enough," Egwene answered, eyeing Leane askance. Something was off about her. Her hair was still cropped, as if it had never grown out at all. Without letting the other woman know what she was doing, Egwene readied a weave to cut someone off from the Source and concentrated on Leane's hand. Something about it was...immaterial.

Then she saw it. The color on Leane's hand suddenly flickered before going back to normal. Pale skin had shown through the illusion of Domani skin.

Egwene's shield slammed in place, as did bands of Air to bind the Black sister.

"Hello, Temaile," Egwene said in a sickly sweet voice. "Aren't you supposed to be in Caemlyn?" Temaile's fear-filled eyes bobbed up and down as she nodded fervently. "I have a little message I would like you to deliver." What Temaile didn't know was that the shield blocking her from the True Source was completely and forever impenetrable. It wasn't a shield. It was a stilling. "I'm sure you'll put every last ounce of effort you have into making sure it is delivered to the right person, now that you need something to motivate you to stay alive."

Later that night, Temaile woke up in her dungeon cell sobbing.

**A/N: I hope you realize this whole really fast updating thing is not going to last, but I really wanted to get this second installment finished. So please, REVIEW!**


	3. Finding a Purpose

Gnawing at the roots

A **Wheel of Time** fic by Gigi.

Disclaimer: I only own one copy of each Robert Jordan's (R.I.P.) published Wheel of Time books. No more.

Chapter 3: Finding a Purpose

**A/N: So I'm finally updating this, which is such a relief to me. I'm reading **_**The Gathering Storm**_** bit by bit at my bookstore, because I really don't want to pay thirty dollars for a book that's hardback, thus throwing off my entire collection of his books. I need my balance. Anyway, I'm really in a Wheel of Time mood, so I hope you are, too. Enjoy!**

Leane had spent the night in an inn just outside the Tower grounds, wearing a disguise that only vaguely resembled her true appearance, making it rather difficult to retain. Her hair, instead of her own dark, shoulder-length locks, hung in short ringlets of brown tinged with red and gold. It was a unique color, but her sister had such hair, so it was legitimate enough for a Domani woman. If there were anyone's example to follow when teaching the art of seduction, it would be her sister, Marlene's. Almost from her nameday, Marlene'd had suitors tail after her all day.

Making her skin darker and her eyes larger, Leane found the weave easier to hold with every passing hour as the lingering effects of her last dose of forkroot before the attack slowly wore away. By the next morning, after going to sleep with a tied-off semblance of her disguise from the day, she'd regained almost all of her strength, especially after eating a hearty meal from the homely innkeeper.

As soon as she finished her breakfast, she paid the innkeeper with money from a small account she'd managed to hide in a secret pocket in her dress. Checking her remaining money, she saw she had enough money to buy a new dress. Maintaining a weave on clothing could be sloppy business, as it was very subject to flicker the true garments underneath, and a Domani woman petitioning the Amyrlin to teach the novices very well couldn't be wearing a dull brown woolen dress. That type of dress would announce to the Tower that, despite her disguised features, Leane was free from the cells.

On her way out of the inn, Leane glanced at the clock sitting on the mantelpiece of the common room – clocks may have been considered a luxury in any other city inn, but almost all Tar Valon inns had at least one. She wouldn't have time to get a dress made, and hardly any store would sell already constructed clothes; that would be wasteful. Leane heaved a deep breath and stepped out into the streets of Tar Valon.

Leane walked into the first shop she encountered and quickly scoped out the seamstress herself. The woman was slender, about Leane's size, which was fortunate, with pale yellow hair that hung down her back in a thick, intricate braid. Her large blue eyes sat well with her small nose and rosebud mouth, which spread into a warm smile upon seeing Leane. "Good morning, my Lady," she greeted. There was a slight hesitation in adding the title, because while Leane's face and carriage conveyed nobility, her drab woolen dress most certainly did now.

Nodding in acceptance, Leane allowed a small smile of her own. "Good morning," she replied. "I am in urgent need of a dress. I am on my way to speak to the Amyrlin, and last night my room was broken into while I was at dinner. So now I am left in my last and rattiest travel dress, and there would be no dignity in addressing her in this." The seamstress nodded thoughtfully, understanding and relief flashing in her eyes at having addressed her correctly. "I hope you can help me. I have no time to get a dress made, you see." Realization made those large blue eyes widen ever so slightly. Buying the dress off a woman's back was hardly proper, but nevertheless, the woman cocked her head to the side in consideration. "Under normal circumstances, I would never ask such a thing, but I would be more than willing to compensate for your troubles," Leane added. "I can pay you the price of sewing a new dress if you would be so kind as to let me purchase yours."

After a few more seconds deliberating the woman finally nodded. "Okay," she affirmed. "Let's go in the back and see if any alterations need to be made."

**8D**

Egwene had two new Red attendants following her today. Katerine, obviously, was no longer available to watch "that al'Vere girl," from sunup to sundown. What happened to the other Red, the Tairen, Egwene could only imagine, though, out of the two possibilities she had in mind, neither were quite pleasant to think about.

When Egwene entered the dining hall, the novices were all abuzz with the news of the disaster in the open cells. Apparently, those who had discovered the scene had very little grasp on the concept of discretion and had allowed it to become common knowledge. Internally, Egwene _tsk_ed at the poor handling of the problem. Bigger events had been sealed to the Hall, more catastrophic occurrences had been hidden from the novices, the Accepted and the majority of the sisters in order to prevent a panic. As she passed by the girls all clad in white, she picked up on the air of unease that surrounded every table. A hundred girls, children, in a panic would do absolutely no good to the situation in the Tower. They needed to be handled before the situation progressed to such a state.

A novice stood next to Egwene's usual seat, marked by a battered cushion, holding a tray with Egwene's breakfast. Egwene smiled in appreciation, moved aside the cushion and took her seat at the wooden table. The novice, Alrenne, set down the tray in front of her and bobbed a curtsy before moving to sit at her own place. She stopped, however, and quietly approached her again.

"Mother," she addressed softly, "there has been talk of an attack on some of the sisters down in the open cells."

Egwene motioned for the girl to sit. This was not a conversation to be had standing up. One needed support when discussing something so grave as this. "Yes, there was an attack."

"Does that mean that the…the Black Ajah really exists?" Alrenne's voice dropped to a whisper for the last half of her question, as if saying the name would bring a Black sister down on her.

"This attack proves nothing, child," Egwene said sternly, "only that everyone should tread more carefully."

"Then do you know who was behind it?" Alrenne pressed.

This gave Egwene pause as she debated what exactly to tell her. "I have my theories, but I fear the reason behind the attack should be of more concern than the who."

"The reason, Mother?"

"Any of the rumors that have sprouted because of this will indicate that it was relatively small-scaled, an aimed assault with a purpose," Egwene answered solemnly. "Until we root out that purpose and resolve it, the attacks will not cease, no matter how many of the offenders we catch."

Alrenne left soon after to go to her first class, leaving Egwene alone to contemplate her own words. She was right in assuming there would be another attack. She just hoped that others, Elaida and the Hall in particular, would be so wise as to assume the same.

**A/N: There you go. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, but I really won't know until you press that pretty button and REVIEW!**


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